Remembering Grandpa Claude

The moment we all knew was coming finally came. We had to say goodbye to the first generation on our farm, the patriarch of our family, and boy was he a good one. Grandpa Claude passed into eternity on September 15, 2020. And even though we knew it was coming, his loss was a tough one on all of us. On October 11 of this year, Grandpa would have turned 94 years young as he liked to say. Although my time of knowing Grandpa Claude was short, he forever left an imprint on my life and my life has been eternally blessed for knowing him. And there will never be another like him.

Writing a eulogy for Grandpa was one of the hardest things I’ve done. Mostly because, where do I even start? I was lucky to have spent a lot of time with him, listening to his stories, and enjoying all of his one-liners. One eulogy cannot possibly capture the life and over the top personality that was Grandpa Claude, but I think this one does pretty well. 

I’ll never forget the first time I met Grandpa Claude, he stretched out his hand, gave me a firm handshake, and said “this is where two good hands meet.” Little did I know from that moment on, the impact and blessing that man would become in my life. The minute I heard the news that Grandpa Claude had passed on, I thought to myself, “the world will never be the same.” And it won’t be. For those of you who know, you know. Claude Rohrich was a treasure in this life that is one of a kind. He was a man of unmatched fiery passion for life even into his 90s, he had wit as sharp as a tack, and an effortless charm if you’d give him a moment (or a couple of hours) of your day to chat. And if he very gently grabbed your arm and said, “Now, let me tell you something,” you were really in for it. If you had his trust, Grandpa would literally give you everything.

I am so fortunate that I got to hear and chronicle many, many, many stories from Grandpa. On Sunday afternoons, we usually made it a point to stop in at Grandma and Grandpa’s house while we were out checking crops. Over a cellar cold beer, he would tell us endless stories about growing up, farming in his day, and of course what an equipment jockey he was. That must be a genetic trait, I am learning. And once Grandpa learned of my affinity for antiques, he would regularly gift me with his treasures he picked up at the auction sales he loved to attend and he loved to take me out into his the sheds which held all of his prized picks to show me every little meticulous detail of each one. And let me tell you, that man tried to sell me a saddle many times and he was such a good salesman, I was almost convinced to buy it. And I don’t even have a horse.

Losing Grandpa for our family and particularly the farm is a hard one as we are forced to face the reality that the first generation of our farm is forever gone. It all began with him and Grandma Katie. It was always clear through the many stories he shared that farming was his life and his love and that never ceased, even up to the very end. The day he passed away, he asked Tom if we were starting to combine yet. Even though he left the farm several decades ago, he still had a passion and invested interest in the farming operation he began. There is no denying the immense amount of pride he had to see what he started flourish into what it is today and how much he loved still being a part of it riding in the combine and driving grain cart well into his late 80s.

For as much as he loved to portray himself as a tough guy, he told me many times that he never wanted to cause any trouble, but he wasn’t afraid to grab a man by the collar; Grandpa had this softness too. And it was most apparent in his marriage to Grandma Katie. Watching Grandpa take care of Grandma those last years was such a beautiful picture of love, even after nearly 70 years. I’ll always remember her clinging to him and him coming over to her side of the car to help her out. And once she was gone, it was apparent that a piece of him on this Earth was gone too. I know for all of our family, we can find some peace in his passing knowing that he is reunited with Grandma and I am sure he is still holding her hand. I can only imagine the witty comment he made when he saw her and the jab she gave him back. For the many times, Grandma said she put up with Grandpa, watching their love age was truly something special to behold.

As we honor and remember the life of Claude, I could honestly go on and on sharing my favorite stories, quotes, and tidbits I have learned about life from the years I knew him, but if there is one I want to highlight, it is this. Never underestimate or take for granted the impact and the beauty of telling somebody a story. Claude’s entire life and persona were marked by his ability to find his way into the soft spot of people’s hearts simply by telling a story. And that is something we need more of in the world of today. I have no doubts that even once he passed on, whoever met Grandpa was met with a firm handshake and the words, “this is where two good hands meet” followed by “Now, let me tell you something.” 

Until we meet again, Grandpa. We will sure miss you down here. Give Grandma all of our love.